Just a random outing.
Enjoy it nigs. I don't do shit like this often
Just a random outing. Enjoy it nigs. I don't do shit like this often
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Ajoutée : il y a 5 jours
Vues : 1640
Care to see what we were writing?
We found a pen and wanted to write about the origins of
Care to see what we were writing? We found a pen and wanted to write about the origins of it.
Where has this pen been?
Kaitlin: At one time it was lost under a cushion, and it feared it's ink would dry and therefore never get to speak or share.
Cody: It was at this time that it began to drain itself, hoping someone would reach in, get ink on their fingers, and at least be inspired to wash it off in a creative manner.
Kaitlin: All it could manage to leak out was one tiny drip. Not enough for anyone to notice until much later. It caused a fight about the unnecessary wear and tear of furniture. The pen was later discovered while somebody was looking for spare change to feed a nicotine addiction.
Cody: And from then on, the pen's life began to surface. The cigarette smoker grabbed it and dropped it outside moments later. You can tell the way a pen has lived by the amount of ink lost inside it's translucent plastic body. This pen had yet to really live.
Kaitlin: As paper began to drain the ink, the pen started it's career as a story-teller, an artist, (if only silly doodles), and an outlet for the frustrated. It found the hands of those willing to share.
Cody: But time wore heavy on the pen. As he drained his life for the sanctity of life, he noticed he was either running out of ink...or running out of words. He decided words, and looked for a nice cushion to retire.
Kaitlin: As the pen looked back on it's life he remembered when the tiny tube of ink was not even a part of it yet. He was just a tiny plastic cylinder in a factory, on a belt with thousands of other shells of things that were unfinished products. The pen wondered about the fate of those other empty shells. Some probably went to math class and wasted all that beautiful ink on numbers, or went through the wash, or under a heavy tire on a busy highway, or worse yet spent their lives in a smokey bar, used only to sign the bill of alcohol tabs or scribble phone numbers on the hands of strangers. The pen decided that his fate was not so bad.
Cody: Or maybe, he briefly thought, he had wasted his ink on words most could never comprehend. The pen never viewed himself as a tool, though that's all he ever could have been, and he often took great offense to ignorance, whether it be in contrast to his own futility or not. Even before he jotted a letter, he felt himself to be brilliant. Maybe all that time was his own ignorance. "No." he thought, and stayed on a desk until it was time to create again.
And then our breakfast came. :)
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Message from Inmendham:
"Truffy, That was a very nice photo of you... it gave me a ting
Message from Inmendham:
"Truffy, That was a very nice photo of you... it gave me a tingle like feeling... you have a very bite-able neck, but you probably here that all the time... as you are the first woman to draw me on a J.C. Penney envelope it seems only right that I send you some other "me art""
I replied with, "The second photo definitely has some inmendham bush. Can I make a video showcasing your beauty?"
His final reply as of now is: "As a photographer, I'm guessing you know that in the right light almost anything can be beautiful... our look like pubes... although these three photos of me may be worth a thousand video words they were intended as nothing more than a lascivious wink at truffles... I mean realistically you could die soon and she could use a "friend" to comfort her with cheap jesters of unsolicited sexual objectification."
Make sure to let him know he's a creepy ol'bastard. :)
Love ya Gary!
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Cover:
http://i33.tinypic.com/dnbq4y.jpg
"A collection of finely crafted insults come
Cover: http://i33.tinypic.com/dnbq4y.jpg
"A collection of finely crafted insults come rolling out of the freshly brushed, though rotted, teeth of American culture. Dictating the clothes you wear, the hair color that suits your face, and the philosophies that will eventually form the lines around your beady, hollow, little eyes. You are not good enough."
BOOK SCHEDULED FOR HALLOWEEN RELEASE!
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MYSPACE:
www.myspace.com/weberphoto
BLOG:
www.cwphoto.tumblr.com
MYSPACE: www.myspace.com/weberphoto
BLOG: www.cwphoto.tumblr.com
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"Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement.
"Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement. In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive. Ambition is only understood if it's to rise to the top of some imaginary ladder of success. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential-as if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth. You'll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing, and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you're doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you'll hear about them." — Bill Watterson.
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